


Enamored

by airebellah



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Banter, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Developing Relationship, First Meetings, Flirting, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Parent Tony Stark, Pre-Relationship, Protective Tony Stark, Requited Crush, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 12:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airebellah/pseuds/airebellah
Summary: Peter never expected to fall for the first man to flirt with him. And he definitely didn't expect to fall for a gun-slinging mercenary Tony outright forbade him from speaking to.It turned out Tony Stark was determined to keep Peter a virgin. Forever.Whenever Deadpool showed up to a fight (and those occurrences were coincidentally increasing), Tony found a way to keep them separated. And Peter, for the life of him, didn’t understand why. Yes, the man was crude and brash. He swung his katanas a little too carelessly, and had absolutely no qualms about his own limbs being sliced or hacked or blown apart. But he fought for the good guys, and that made him a good guy in Peter’s eyes.





	Enamored

**Author's Note:**

> I love all the fics with Deadpool immediately head-over-heels for Peter, but I wanted something in which Peter pretty much had just as huge a crush :)

Peter Parker had a crush on a certain ex-mercenary.

It all started one night when Deadpool had somehow snuck past Tony’s security into the Avengers tower.

“Sir,” FRIDAY had interrupted Tony and Peter in the lab, her tone not quite managing JARVIS’ impeccable exasperation. “I have been informed that the 'sexiest baddie-turned-Avenger' is waiting in your living room.”

Tony had shot out of the lab, his lovingly-yelled, “Stay here and don’t do anything stupid!” firmly ignored as Peter slipped on his mask and followed.

He crept into the living room, web shooters at the ready, fully prepared to defend his mentor at any cost. But Tony and the red-suited man were only standing, talking to each other. Both turned to Peter, the former sighing in defeat while the newcomer waved excitedly.

“Spider-Man, what’d I say?” Tony snapped, as if he hadn’t learned anything over the past four years.

Peter opened his mouth to retort, trying not to feel disappointed that there was no danger after all, when the anonymous man crooned. “Ooh, you’re smaller in person!”

“No I’m not!” Peter yelped at the same time Tony shouted, “Hey! Don’t you even look at him!”

The man threw his hands up in mock innocence even as he turned to Peter and the white covering his left eye seemed to scrunch up and twitch. _Was that… supposed to be a wink?_ he wondered.

“The hell you want, Deadpool?” Tony snarked, not-so-subtly repositioning so he physically shielded Peter from sight. Peter simply leaned to the side, belatedly waving back. No need to seem rude, right?

The other man was practically bouncing on his toes in excitement as he answered, “Sorry for thinking SHIELD might want a little update on the mission they sent me on! Or did you forget I’m one of the goodies, now?”

As Tony bit back a reply, Deadpool mirrored Peter’s side tilt and gestured with his hands. Palms facing the floor, he pushed the backs of his curved fingers together creating an M-shape, with his thumbs up. His hands curved forward, palms facing his chest, then he pointed at Peter.

“This isn’t the damn SHIELD headquarters!” Tony growled, thumping Peter in the side to move back. He didn’t.

“Oh, I know,” Deadpool sighed, pulling a shiny flashdrive out of what looked like a _fanny pack,_  of all things,attached to his array of deadly weapons. He threw it in the air, spinning around before catching it behind his back. “But if I go there, I run the risk of our good ol’ Pirate-With-A-Pegleg-Up-His-Ass assigning me another _boring_ assignment -” Peter laughed at the nickname and Deadpool paused, grinning as he pointed at Peter then pressing two fingers to his chin and flicking them back into his palm. “I need a break,” he continued, somewhat hurriedly, as Tony began to audibly growl. “From all this altruistic… good-doing! I mean, they gave me a _taser.”_ Deadpool pulled the weapon from his belt, pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and held it away from him as though it were physically repulsive. “The fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

“Fine. Leave the drive here,” Tony sneered. “Just get the hell out!”

Deadpool turned to Peter once more, holding a fist with the thumb and pinkie facing outward in the universal sign of a phone, shaking it by his ear then pointing at his chest. Peter easily recognized the gesture this time: _Call me!_ Deadpool threw the flash drive into the air, leaving Tony to scramble forward to catch it as the masked man raced toward an open window. Peter also darted forward, expecting Deadpool to do something super cool, like release a pair of hidden wings from his back or jump onto a well-timed hover-board. He was not expecting the man to simply fall, and keep falling, for fifteen stories before splattering onto the ground.

Peter’s stomach lurched as he leapt onto the ledge. He should have done something, caught the man with his webs, but he figured Deadpool had had some grand plan beyond being flattened onto the sidewalk. Peter was about to web his way down - although he was too _late,_ what kind of a hero was he? - when the man groaned weakly and pushed himself off the ground. Jiggling his grotesquely bent limbs back into shape, he looked up and shot Spider-Man a thumbs up, appendage hanging off the joint, before limping away.

“What the _hell?”_ Peter gasped.

Tony sidled up to the window, USB clutched tightly in his palm. “Yeah, he does that,” he muttered dismissively. “Enhanced healing. Can’t die.”

After Peter got over his initial horror, he was left deeply curious about Deadpool. It wasn’t just some rebellious phase triggered by Tony’s adamant refusal to discuss the man, beyond explaining that he was an ex-mercenary (though the “ex” part was said rather dubiously), and yes, Tony was quite sure he could feel pain, but had a sneaking suspicion the man had some serious masochism.

Peter was initially intrigued by a man who could feel pain yet seemed to invite it. And when he searched the web, only to discover Deadpool had called him _cute_ in American Sign Language, he felt a horrible little clench of excitement in his stomach.

He had known for years that he was attracted to both men and women, but this was the first time that a man had actually flirted with him. It felt embarrassingly overdue and, well, was it so terrible to get to know him? After all, if Deadpool was taking assignments from SHIELD, he couldn’t be _that_ bad… could he?

 

Despite his determination, Peter’s recon skills had not improved much over the years. While Ned remained his trusted and loyal Guy-in-the-Chair, it was kind of awkward to ask his friend to dig up information on what appeared to be rapidly developing into a crush. He kept his ears peeled, but the other hero’s name never came up. So when the man, who Peter had somehow gone four years without ever meeting, just so _happened_ to show up when Peter and the Avengers were fighting off some hideous purple-skinned, blue-blooded, scaly aliens, he wondered if it was more than mere coincidence.

He was left wondering for all of thirty seconds before Deadpool starting waving a katana-wielding hand in his direction. “Spidey-babe!” he hollered. “Papa Stark finally let you out!”

“Spidey-babe?” Nat murmured through the comms, sparing a split-second between switching guns to shoot Peter a quirked brow.

“We don’t need you, Wilson,” Tony growled between blasts with his repulsors.

“But you just let Cinderella down from the tower!” Deadpool whined. “Aren’t I supposed to give Spidey a kiss now?”

“First, I think you’re mixing up your fairy tales, there,” Peter called out with a chuckle. “Second, what makes you think _you’re_ the Prince Charming in this- hey!” Flipping off the roof of a car, Peter narrowly missed a repulsor blast aimed at him.

Tony was wagging a large, metal finger, shouting, “Don’t encourage him!” 

It turned out Tony Stark was determined to keep Peter a virgin. Forever.

Whenever Deadpool showed up to a fight (and those occurrences were coincidentally increasing), Tony found a way to keep them separated. And Peter, for the life of him, didn’t understand _why._ Yes, the man was crude and brash. He swung his katanas a little too carelessly, and had absolutely no qualms about his own limbs being sliced or hacked or blown apart. But he fought for the good guys, and that made him a good guy in Peter’s eyes.

Plus he always whistled at Peter’s acrobatics, and cheered him on when he fought off particularly strong baddies. It made Peter's stomach flutter in excitement -- and once in nausea, when Deadpool’s hand had been cut off, and every slap of the sinewy stump against his remaining hand sent blood spurting everywhere. (He had meant well. Peter was pretty sure.)

Even that gruesome display was not enough to stop Peter from bounding toward the other hero when the fight was done, fully intent on stuttering and blushing his way through what would hopefully turn into a request for a date.

He was stopped short a mere ten feet away by a sudden grip on the back of his neck. He twisted in the grasp, throwing his arm up to web the offender when he realized he was being manhandled by Iron Man.

“Hey!” he shouted as he was dragged back with surprising force. “Mr. Stark, what the hell?”

“We’re leaving,” was the man’s clipped reply.

“Spidey-babe!” Deadpool shouted from where he lay on the pavement, because a hand was not the only appendage in need of regeneration. (They would need to have a serious chat, on their eventual date, about Deadpool needlessly getting himself injured.) “Call me!”

“I don’t have your number!” Peter called back, reluctantly clinging to Tony’s iron waist as the man propelled them into flight. Even with his enhanced hearing, he couldn’t catch the reply.

 

Peter was the closest to the scene when he discovered there had been a bomb planted on the Queensboro bridge. The first responders were overcome by the citizens’ panic as people pushed through crashed cars to flee the smoke-covered bridge. He urged people to safety as he leapt from car roof to car roof, unable to swing from the suspension in case it was faulty. There was a low, warning creak of metal and Peter flung himself forward just as the second innermost tower began to topple. He locked his knees and braced his arms, stopping the tower before it could crash onto any civilians still stuck on the bridge.

“C’mon, you idiots, let’s go!” The thought of _What kind of first responder speaks that way to victims?_ barely had time to cross Peter’s mind before the newcomer shrieked. “Shit, baby boy’s packing some serious muscles!”

“Deadpool?” Peter yelled, trying to crane his head to look behind him. “A-a little help here!”

Deadpool swaggered over, head tilted curiously. “Gee, I’m flattered, but I don’t have super strength.” He whistled low, ogling Peter’s quaking legs. “Do you have like a thigh-master, or…”

“Shooters!” Peter gasped. “My web shooters, take them off my wrist! We need to get this up!”

The man sidled up behind him, unnecessarily crouching down to glue his front against Peter’s back as he leaned forward to tug off the shooters. For now, Peter barely had enough wherewithal to roll his eyes; later, he would grow quite flustered as he recalled the intimate contact.

“Okay, you just press that --”

“Oooh!” Deadpool cooed as a length of webbing shot off the side of the bridge. “I just shot my Spidey web!”

“Seriously, man?” Peter grunted as he struggled to push the tower up. “At the base!”

“Incoming call from Tony Stark,” Karen informed him suddenly.

“Shit, um-” Before he could decide whether to accept or reject, the call connected. _Stupid overrides._

“Peter,” Tony’s voice came through. “I have word you’re responding to the -”

“Yeah,” Peter interrupted with a groan. “Bridge. I got this.”

“Yeah you do, baby boy!” Deadpool shouted, rather unhelpfully, from where he stood haphazardly spraying the warped metal back together.

“Peter…” Tony drawled warningly. “Who was that - was that Deadpool?”

“Karen, disconnect!” Peter yelped.

The tower was halfway upright when Iron-Man arrived “to steal the show,” as Deadpool put it. Natasha snorted but didn’t disagree as she sprinted off to pull anyone trapped in their cars off the bridge. Peter sighed in relief as the weight was finally lifted from him, barely able to raise his arms to rub at his aching shoulders. As Tony took over welding the metal back together, Deadpool ceased his web-shooting and skipped over to Peter with an enthusiasm usually reserved for little girls in pigtails. “These are for you, hot stuff,” he said sweetly before shoving some crumpled daisies into Peter’s face.

Peter’s hand trembled as he reached out (from fatigue, of course), gloved fingers brushing against Deadpool’s own covered skin to tenderly grasp the flowers. “Where did you get these?” Peter asked as he inspected the dangling, dirt-covered roots. “And… when?” He took a whiff, but all he could smell was sweat and a faint tang of blood. _Shit, that’s not how you flirt!_ “I mean, thanks!  Really -- no one’s ever gotten me flowers before!” he gushed, only to majorly cringe at that embarrassing reveal.

“What the fuck?” Deadpool growled. “Where does your boyfriend live, ‘cause I’m gonna fucking _skewer_ him!”

“Wait, wait!” Peter exclaimed as Deadpool reached back to pull at his katanas. “I don’t have a boyfriend!”

Deadpool let his swords fall back with twin _thumps_ as he lumbered forward, towering over Peter. Peter watched as the man’s mask stretched over his mouth, clutching the flowers to his chest as he pushed up onto the tips of his toes, eagerly awaiting Deadpool’s reply.

“No!”

The two turned at the desperate shout as Tony descended to the ground, the tower apparently satisfactorily repaired. The repulsor in his palm glowed threateningly as he waved between them. “No.”

Natasha pointed out offhandedly as she sauntered over, “Doesn’t your disapproval just make it hotter, or something?”

Tony groaned, whipping around to his repulsor at the ex-assassin. “Seriously, Nat?”

“What?” she asked innocently, casually stepping back to draw Tony further down the bridge. “He kinda sees you like a dad, right? It only makes sense that your anger would egg him on.”

“He’s nineteen, Nat! He’s not going through some teenage rebellion!”

“So, then he’s old enough to date whoever he wants,” Nat pointed out. As she crossed her arms, settling into her bickering pose, Peter grinned. She was goading Tony into a fight.

“Do you have a pen?” he asked eagerly as he turned back to Deadpool. The other man grinned as he plunged a hand into his weird fanny pack, rooting around before he whipped something out and held it in the air triumphantly.

Deadpool stepped closer, fingers wrapping around Peter’s wrist. “May I?” he asked, voice low and sultry, as he began to tug at the fabric.

Peter was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that someone was directing such a sensuous tone toward him as Deadpool started to pull even harder, swearing under his breath when Peter’s wrist refused to be revealed. “Uh, yeah, it doesn’t really pull back…” Peter explained slowly. “Wait, is that a crayon?”

“Great idea, Spidey!” Deadpool dropped Peter’s wrist and turned around, knees bending as he hunched over. Peter frowned, chewing his lip in consternation before turning back to a ranting Tony and an amused Natasha.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Tony seethed.

Natasha smirked, casually picking at her nails. “I thought he’s not a kid anymore, Stark? Old enough to join the Avengers…” Peter chuckled as he pictured the vein in Tony’s forehead ready to burst.

He turned back just in time to have a piece of folded paper flung at him. “There ya go, baby boy!” Deadpool beamed as Peter scrambled to catch the falling paper.

He couldn’t bite back his grin as he tore it open, staring at a cartoon version of himself swooning, complete with heart eyes, as a gallant Deadpool offered him a beautiful bouquet of roses on one knee. “That's not quite how I remember it,” Peter mumbled.  Written across the top was, “CALL ME, HOT STUFF,” followed by a phone number.

**Author's Note:**

> Wade first says “How are you?” then “You’re cute” in ASL. (Tried to describe it as best I could from educational youtube videos, sorry!)  
> Let me know what you think! I'm working on a longer, multi-chapter fic for these two, but I'm currently stuck on the third chapter haha.
> 
>  [My tumblr :)](http://airebellah.tumblr.com)


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